


Dentist

by ununpentium



Series: Hamish Watson-Holmes [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-22
Updated: 2011-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununpentium/pseuds/ununpentium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs Hudson knocked at the open door, peered in and saw Sherlock languishing on the sofa. “What’s got into him today?” Mrs Hudson asked John in a mock whisper. John mouthed the word “dentist” at Mrs Hudson who grimaced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dentist

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hamish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/329656) by [Valeria2067](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeria2067/pseuds/Valeria2067). 



> The Hamish Watson-Holmes series is a series of vignettes inspired by Valeria2067's Hamish. They are written as my muse inspires me, and may or may not eventually follow a bigger story arc.

“But John, I don’t want to go,” Sherlock whined. John was standing opposite Sherlock with his arms folded across his chest and a no nonsense expression on his face.

“We are leaving in five minutes, no exceptions. Put your shoes on, Sherlock.” Sherlock pouted and promptly flung himself onto the sofa. John rolled his eyes. This happened every damn time.

“Yoohoo! Boys, I’ve made you some cake!” Mrs Hudson knocked at the open door, peered in and saw Sherlock languishing on the sofa. “What’s got into him today?” Mrs Hudson asked John in a mock whisper. John mouthed the word “dentist” at Mrs Hudson who grimaced.

“I’ll just leave the tin on the table; you boys can enjoy it later. I’ll see myself out.”

“Thanks Mrs Hudson.”

John turned back to Sherlock who was doing his hardest to pretend to be comatose. Hamish barrelled down the stairs and ran full pelt into John’s legs, wrapping himself around them, like a small version of Sherlock.

“Daddy? Aren’t we supposed to be going now?” John ran his fingers through his son’s hair, teasing out the curls. As Hamish grew older his hair had started to lose its curliness and John found himself missing it.

“Yes we are Hal, but Father’s scared-”

“Not scared!”

“-and he is going to make us late.”

Hamish giggled and ran over to Sherlock, clambered on top of him and started to tickle him relentlessly.

“Sherlock, you better get up now, you know Hal’s ruthless with the tickle attacks!”

The Sherlock shaped lump on the sofa started to squirm and giggle. Hal climbed back over Sherlock and ran to his feet where he proceeded to tickle them, too.

“I surrender!” Sherlock wheezed, “Okay, I’ll get ready, just stop tickling me.” John gathered up Hamish in his arms and kissed him on the cheek.

“Another victory for you, Hal! Told you he couldn’t resist being tickled.” John turned his attention back to Sherlock and looked pointedly at his shoes. Sherlock sighed audibly and put them on.

“Will it hurt?”

“No, Sherlock.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Yes, Sherlock.”

“Promise?”

John licked his lips and supressed a giggle.

“Yes, I promise. But we need to go now or _Hamish_ will miss _his_ dental appointment.”

Sherlock sidled up to John and clutched at his elbow.

“Dentists are not normal. They can smell fear, John, they are like bloodhounds!”

John rolled his eyes again, led Sherlock out of 221b, shifted Hal in his arms as he locked the door and smiled to himself. He had one child, and one fully grown adult child. He wouldn’t change anything for the world.


End file.
